


Coffee

by JantoForever21



Series: The Beauty of Poetry [3]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-02-06
Updated: 2010-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 01:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoForever21/pseuds/JantoForever21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of stories I wrote using different prompts. More chapters will be added from time to time when I feel like writing another story using a prompt .</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coffee

**Coffee**

Whenever Jack took a sip of his favorite blend of coffee, he thought of Ianto. The vaporized steam flowing off the cup reminded him of Ianto’s hot breath on the back of his neck. The warmth of the coffee reminded him of Ianto’s soft lips, kissing him softly. Whenever he drank his favorite blend of coffee, he would always think of Ianto.


	2. Reality

**Reality**

Love, lust, anger, sin, trust; jealousy. What do those words represent? Happiness, satisfaction, pride; hope. What do they have in common? Life, truth; existence. What do they mean? Love, lust, anger, sin, trust, jealousy, happiness, satisfaction, pride, hope, life, truth, existence. What are all these words? Reality. That's what it all is -- what life is-- full of pain, sorrow, betrayal and hate. If that's what life is, then why's it worth living, through all the pain and misery, why does everyone --Jack-- give no mercy? Why doesn't he just kill me now? Because Jack wants to heal him, make him one again --trying to mend a soul that's broken beyond repair. Why can't he see? Why can't he see I'm broken beyond repair? Why won't he just kill me, get it done fast and quick and put me out of my misery? Why can't he just let me be? Because he loves me.


	3. In Loving Memory of Ianto Jones

**In Loving Memory of Ianto Jones**

In loving memory of Ianto Jones

who will fill no more

pages in this book,

surely not one I’ll overlook,

as I sit here and weep;

a promise I couldn’t keep,

and all I do is sigh,

as I try to say goodbye.


End file.
